The pantry raid

It was very nearly completely unnoticed, silently and efficiently done, not to mention the speed in which the deed was done. Alas though, a teeny, tiny scrap of sellaphane drifted out from under the sink unit. I pulled it and lo and behold it was the empty wrapper from a pound of bacon.  Stix had polished it off so fast he nearly got away with it. I have made him a ‘delux’ wooden cat house and swopped his food for a well known brand – all in an effort to make him appreciate the delights of home. It seems to be working, well at least Stix is hanging around now, if only to raid the pantry.  I took part in many successful pantry raids at boarding school.  The cook was named M rs Cook – proudly reminding us at every opportunity of her famous ancestor, Captain James Cook.  She was about 4 foot tall, was a tower of strength and made the best muffins in the whole world.  Based in Whitby we were proud of our sea-faring heritage and Mrs Cook made us ships biscuits for break from a recipe passed down her family.  They could apparently sail round the world and last for months.  I believe her, I have never come across anything quite like them and I loved them.  I got to know Mrs Cook quite well because we had a system of chores at school.  The worst job was washing up.  To make it fair each half term the rotor started at each end of the alphabet. My surname beginning with H meant I was permanently in the middle and permanently washing up. It did have its perks though and Mrs Cook was generous when she baked and smiled and turned a blind eye, keeping our secret from the nuns. As I practised the harp Stix appeared at the window, so I smiled at him.

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